The Song of Hiawatha:
Henry W. Longfellow, Aberdeen Press
Paperback
(Independently published, Aug. 30, 2020)
On the Mountains of the Prairie,On the great Red Pipe-stone Quarry,Gitche Manito, the mighty,He the Master of Life, descending,On the red crags of the quarryStood erect, and called the nations,Called the tribes of men together. From his footprints flowed a river,Leaped into the light of morning,O'er the precipice plunging downwardGleamed like Ishkoodah, the comet.And the Spirit, stooping earthward,With his finger on the meadowTraced a winding pathway for it,Saying to it, "Run in this way!" From the red stone of the quarryWith his hand he broke a fragment,Moulded it into a pipe-head,Shaped and fashioned it with figures;From the margin of the riverTook a long reed for a pipe-stem,With its dark green leaves upon it;Filled the pipe with bark of willow,With the bark of the red willow;Breathed upon the neighboring forest,Made its great boughs chafe together,Till in flame they burst and kindled;And erect upon the mountains,Gitche Manito, the mighty,Smoked the calumet, the Peace-Pipe,As a signal to the nations.